


Bull-Slaying

by veivei



Series: Mithraism [3]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multiple Personalities, Sequel, if you read the previous two you can imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2018-11-15 19:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11237454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veivei/pseuds/veivei
Summary: This was a kid with too much power for his own good, Aoba thought, as the shadow of the Valkyrie, who had since taken flight, passed briefly over them. This was probably going to ruin him. And possibly everyone else along with him.Sequel to The Unconquered Sun. Complete.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Keeping up with the theme Bull-Slaying is English for Tauroctony.

When Mitora left the prison building, the sun shone right into his eyes, lighting up their redness. 

It was so warm and bright outside that he felt a shiver run down his spine at the contrast with the place he’d just left, cold and foreboding, and the creature he’d met there. One thing his biological father certainly didn’t lack was darkness. But then again, he himself, even while he was so much younger and innocent, his hands not yet drenched in blood, already felt it growing inside him as well.

He saw the black winged shape of the Valkyrie move on the roof of the building by his side with a corner of his eye. Her eyesight was unnaturally sharp. When he made a small move with his hand to let her know he was fine, he was certain she could see it even from such a long distance.

The man who had brought him here all the way from Tokyo approached, dressed in a navy suit and a long black coat. Even while it was very warm outside for the middle of winter, he was wearing leather gloves.

“So, how did it go, Mitora-kun?” He asked with a smile.

Mitora smiled back at him. He wasn't even fifteen but he already needed to look down to face that man from up close and that was very thrilling for him.

He'd told Izaya he’d come here all alone but that had been a lie and not the only one he'd told him at that. Izaya didn't believe everything he'd said either. But that didn't even appear to bother him. He seemed amused enough with just talking to someone and apparently was nowhere near as interested in what was currently going on outside the prison walls as one might have expected of him, to the point of refusing to be rescued. Mitora was vaguely disappointed by how Izaya seemed to be stuck reliving his past, choosing to try to use him to exact revenge for something that had happened years ago of all things. But maybe that was what fifteen years of isolation did to people, even to someone like his father, who had once held so much influence over everything. Maybe even once out of prison, he was going to stay like this and therefore be of no interest to Mitora.

“My father asked me to kill you as soon as I’m able to, Uncle Aoba.” Mitora answered, looking closely for the man’s reaction but not really expecting to see any. 

Aoba was treating him like what he was. Someone who was already indestructible and was on the cusp of becoming all-powerful. He wouldn’t have let him see any weaknesses of his.

“That’s understandable.” Aoba’s smile didn’t waver when he said that.

He didn’t ask if Mitora was planning to go through with it. He must have been aware that there was no point in hearing Mitora’s answer to that question, which would have obviously been a ‘no’. If it would have been true was a whole different matter.

Mitora thought how it was a grave omission on Izaya’s part not to have asked about what had happened to Mairu and Kururi at all. However little he might have cared for his sisters, especially after fifteen years of no contact with them, he should have at least entertained the possibility that the two of them had decided to be a part of Mitora’s life.

The two of them had spent years abroad after Izaya’s conviction but then they came back, fresh out of university, with a new family name and no longer as schoolgirls, and nobody in Ikebukuro knew any better, other than a group of people who wouldn’t have blamed them for what their brother had done anyway. Mitora was still quite small when he first met them and he accepted their twin strangeness with natural ease, just like his adoptive father’s inhuman strength and the Valkyrie’s constant presence by his side.

For years Mitora was seeing Aoba with them at times, a perpetually smiling man with a prosthetic hand, before he finally understood who that man really was. How he had once been his biological father’s accomplice. How his lack of a hand had been inflicted by Izaya himself and how Izaya had nearly killed him by slitting his throat. How he'd helped put Izaya in prison, probably in retaliation for all that, even while it meant years of incarceration for him as well.

It was at that point that Mitora understood why his adoptive father was so reluctant to let him meet Aoba at all. But then Aunt Kururi married him, disregarding the past without giving anyone any explanation, and Aoba became part of Mitora's family, for better or for worse.

Mitora was happy that was the case. His inner darkness called out to Aoba’s own involvement with the dark side of things both in the past and in the present. Mitora didn’t know the details but there were rumors he’d heard or more read about on the Internet. Aoba might have been a lawyer but apparently there was nothing particularly lawful about what he was actually doing for a living.

“Let’s go to the car.” Aoba said and started walking. “Do you want to ask me anything? Has he told you anything about me you didn’t already know?”

Mitora wondered what more there was to know.

“Not really.” He answered right away.

“Will you be seeing him again?”

“Once he’s out of prison, probably." Mitora shrugged. "Otherwise, what’s the point? Uncle Shizuo was right. There’s nothing much to see.”

That was a lie, too, Mitora had to admit, because the uncanny similarity between him and that man had been worth seeing in and out of itself.

\---

Aoba thought how he would have liked to see even what little there was. There were strings he could pull to get in for a visit and maybe he was actually going to do that one day. Sometimes when he was looking into his wife’s or Mitora’s red eyes he could still see the look Izaya had had in his before he'd slit his throat, ending whatever there had been between the two of them instantly. Aoba understood why that had been necessary and he could see how he’d been used just like they had once promised to each other, but now that he was older he could also see how he had been much too young at the time for all that to become unimportant to him with a cut of a knife. 

Izaya’s touch was lodged deep inside him for life and him still wishing Aoba dead after all these years disturbingly felt like an acknowledgement.

Though there were also things Mitora was not telling him. Aoba knew a liar when he saw one. And also, just like he used to with Izaya, he’d been feeling lately that uncanny similarity between himself and Mitora that was at the same time off-putting and morbidly fascinating.

“Maybe I should kill him first.” He said.

Mitora was walking toward the car by his side.

“He’s still my father, Uncle Aoba.” He pointed out. “My real father. You’d have to kill me as well to stay alive after doing that. And killing me is impossible.” He said with a self-assured smile on his face.

“Indeed.” 

Mitora was a kid with too much power for his own good, Aoba thought, as they got into the car and the shadow of the Valkyrie, who had since taken flight, passed briefly over them. This was probably going to ruin him. And possibly everyone else along with him.


	2. Chapter 2

“What’s this?” Shizuo asked upon being presented with a sheet of paper covered in small neat handwriting.

“This is a letter Kururi wrote to me.” Aoba said.

Shizuo was unperturbed by the fact Aoba’s own wife had written a letter to him instead of simply telling him what she needed to tell him because he knew well enough how she was, but there was something about this situation that felt off to him even before he started reading the letter.

Shizuo didn’t like Aoba one bit ever since he’d first laid eyes on him but he figured at this point his dislike was justified considering Aoba’s involvement in the attack fifteen years ago and the fact that he was the exact same kind of shady bastard as Izaya. Mitora’s continuing interest in him was worrying in light of that but it was also something Shizuo couldn’t stop anymore after Kururi had married him, which of course made him angry with no real outlet for the feeling. Aoba was Mitora’s family now though and he only had one hand. That was enough to stop Shizuo from lashing out at him, at least for as long as he behaved, but it sure wasn’t easy. Especially when meeting him one on one like that. Shizuo tended to avoid Aoba but coming here, to his place, to talk had been necessary at this point. Since it had been over a month since Mitora had left home and come to live here.

It was a luxurious place, likely paid for with illicit money, and it somewhat reminded Shizuo of Izaya’s old office, with how spacious it was and with its panoramic windows with a great view over the city and the black leather couches. The table he was sitting at was made of glass and metal and a bouquet of white lilies in a stainless steel vase decorated it. It all felt very different from his own place where Mitora had so far been living since birth.

“Read it.” Aoba encouraged him, looking at him intently. “Mitora will come back from school soon.”

\---

Shizuo started reading.

Observing him, Aoba thought how Shizuo had somehow changed very little since that time he had first seen him throwing vending machines on the street back when he’d been a middle school kid. He wondered if it wasn’t an illusion with the blond hair making Shizuo look younger but that couldn’t be all there was to it. Then again, he himself had a very youthful appearance, too. The one change in Shizuo’s looks was that it had been years since he’d last worn a bartender uniform, switching to regular clothes that didn't make him stand out so much.

“I need to smoke.” Shizuo said in a deadly serious voice after having read the letter, his knuckles gripping it so tightly now they turned white.

Aoba offered him his own cigarettes and a lighter right away.

“Did you set Mitora up to do this?” Shizuo asked with a grim face. He put the letter down on the table and lit up a cigarette with shaking hands.

“What kind of question is that?” Aoba asked. “Why would I set up your son to let his aunt know that you’re molesting him?”

“Because it’s not true.”

“If that’s the case, I assure you Mitora can lie out of his own accord, Heiwajima-san, he doesn’t need my help.” Aoba said, looking closely at Shizuo whose whole body was starting to shake. “Look, I’m afraid you’ll lash out at me now but that won’t make anything better. If you, hypothetically speaking, did anything to Mitora, the Valkyrie will come for you soon enough. And you knew that well enough. And if you didn’t, explain to me what’s wrong with Mitora because I’m not his parent.” He looked at Shizuo expectantly.

“I don’t know that either.” Shizuo admitted, visibly concentrating on smoking to calm himself down. He was slightly better at it now that he was older but the difference wasn’t dramatic. 

Aoba kept on watching him warily.

The sound of the front door of the apartment opening resounded in the room.

“Hello.” Mitora called out from the hallway in a cheerful voice.

Shizuo crushed the cigarette he’d just started smoking in an empty stainless steel ashtray by his side.

“Uncle Shizuo, why are you here?” Mitora asked, stopping in the doorway with an astonished expression on his face.

Aoba looked closely at him and then at Shizuo again, though he wasn’t sure himself what he expected to see. They both just looked hurt. But between the two if them, Mitora was by far the better actor.

“You lied to your aunt.” Shizuo said.

Mitora glanced at the letter lying on the table and must have realized what had happened. His eyes widened.

“You both know.” He said. “Aunt Kururi let you know. You’re trying to get rid of me.” He addressed Aoba. “That’s why you told Uncle Shizuo. Ever since I visited Uncle Izaya you think I’m the worst. But, Uncle Aoba, that is not a lie.” Mitora sounded terrified.

The look of betrayal on Shizuo’s face was heartbreaking. Any illusion that he might have still had of him and Mitora being family must have shattered in that moment.

“Who knows, Mitora. It’s your word against your father’s.” Aoba said.

“Why would you believe a monster like him over me, though? I’m just a kid.” Mitora argued.

“You are a monster yourself with your Valkyrie, Mitora. And you threatened to kill me.” Aoba pointed out. “And now you want my help.”

“He did what?” Shizuo asked incredulously.

“Uncle Izaya asked me to do that for him. But I won’t.” Mitora insisted. “If you just let me stay here.” He addressed Aoba.

“Oh, that was very touching, Mitora. Get out of here. Both of you.” Aoba got up from his seat. He barked the command at them if they were some lackeys from his gang years ago.

“I won’t go anywhere with him.” Mitora said, looking at Shizuo with eyes wide in terror.

“How come your Valkyrie allowed that kind of thing to happen in the first place, Mitora?” Aoba asked, looking Mitora in the eye. “Since she apparently didn’t help you,you know there are only two options: either you wanted this to happen or it didn’t happen at all.”

Mitora paled.

Shizuo stood up, too.

“Can you let Mitora stay here for a few more days?” He addressed Aoba. “Until I figure something out.”

“A few more days." Aoba agreed reluctantly. "But not past his birthday. And I’ll only do this because Kururi would like me to.”

"Thank you." Shizuo said before heading out of the room. 

He passed by Mitora in the doorway without as much as glancing at him. A moment later, the front door closed behind him, barely making a sound.

He was controlling himself surprisingly well, considering the situation, Aoba thought. Though it was also scary in a whole different way compared to his usual outbursts. The silence he’d left behind was deadly.

“Are you happy with yourself?” Aoba spoke up to break it. 

He exhaled in relief at this situation not having resulted in violence at least.

“Are you happy with yourself, Uncle Aoba?” Mitora said. “What if you’re wrong and I’m just a kid who got hurt?” He asked, his eyes full of pain.

\---

Shizuo walked back to his place on foot instead of taking the train, afraid he might have hurt someone if it was too crowded or if he was inconvenienced in any other way.

He was essentially still the same, he realized. His fuse was still way too short. But despite that, somehow, Mitora had so far not angered him even once. Lately he was starting to look disturbingly similar to Izaya back when Shizuo had first met him in high school but the different hair color was helping with that. It seemed that they had been getting along fine even when Mitora had got moody and aloof in his teenage years but now it was becoming apparent that in fact nothing had been all right.

This was just too much. Mitora had crossed several lines with perpetuating such ugly lies.

Shizuo thought back to the moment he’d first realized that Mitora had really changed. It hadn’t been when he'd met Izaya or when he'd gone to live with Kururi and Aoba a month ago. It had been right before that though. And it had been Kishitani Shingen's fault.

It didn’t make sense otherwise unless most of what Shizuo had ever believed about his son had been lies. But he vastly preferred to believe in Mitora’s innate innocence. Possibly being corrupted, yes. But not missing in the first place.

After all Mitora used to be a sweet baby. He had pretty red eyes and a full head of black hair ever since birth. He wasn’t particularly fussy and the Valkyrie babysat him when Shizuo was at work. Or she took on the role of his missing mother, depending on how one looked at that, at least inside the apartment they were all sharing. For obvious reasons she had to keep her distance once outside. Mitora couldn't understand that for a long time and he cried and kept on calling her in their own wordless ways Shizuo couldn’t understand until he ended up thrashing in his stroller.

Despite that he grew up to be a smart and well-behaved little boy, though certain melancholy overcame him with time at the realization that his family was both very unusual and not something to be discussed outside a trusted circle of uncles. It was also admittedly missing important people he knew nothing about, at least until his aunts came back. And once they did, he clung to them desperately. They were the ones who started telling him about their older brother. And it went downhill from there. At nine, Mitora was ill-prepared to handle the news of who Izaya really was but he was desperately in need of some kind of vaguely child-friendly introduction.

Still, he wasn’t so bad as a teenager. He had good grades and didn’t pick fights and declared he wanted to become an actor like Kasuka. He also wanted to meet his biological father. But Izaya refused to see him until he was nearly fifteen.

It was then that Shizuo started to realize how everything was going to go to shit once that fifteenth birthday rolled around. He might have been deluding himself it wasn’t going to happen, but the damn flea, who had proved once and for all that he couldn’t be trusted fifteen years ago, probably set it all up that way on purpose. Izaya was going to influence Mitora right at the moment when he acquired the unnecessary power to do whatever he wanted without obvious consequences and give him the push in the wrong direction. And the result was going to be him raising an innocent child to become another monster.

Shizuo’s hands curled into fists by his sides.

Though in the end it was not Izaya who had corrupted Mitora first. Five weeks ago, Shingen was supposed to think of a way to free Mitora of his Valkyrie, separate them just like he’d separated Celty’s head from her body years ago. That had seemed like a good enough idea.

Except what he did instead was tell Mitora a bunch of lies about his godly name and immortality awaiting him shortly and about what his real father supposedly wanted for him. Things Mitora had repeated to Shizuo before leaving to live with his aunt. Shingen was only still alive and well because he’d fled to America on the next plane. But that was going to change if he ever dared to come back, old man or not.

Shizuo reached his building and walked to the door of his place. He entered his empty apartment. Mitora’s possessions that used to be strewn everywhere were now all placed inside his room, which was closed and locked. In a way it was as if he and his Valkyrie had never even been here in the first place.

It was easier like that. At this point Shizuo doubted they were ever coming back.

\---

“I prepared all the information on ongoing cases you may need if I were to be suddenly gone.” Aoba said before taking out a pendrive and placing it on the table.

Shiki looked at him closely.

“What's the matter, Izumii-san? You’re planning to die?” He asked, his voice neutral.

Awakusu-kai had expanded in the previous years. Everything was bigger and better. The front for the new headquarters was a company importing luxury goods and the interiors were appropriately opulent.

“More like I will do my best to stay alive but it’s not a given I’m going to succeed, Shiki-san." Aoba said.

“Does it have anything to do with you being our lawyer?”

“No. It’s about my past.”

Shiki’s gaze traveled to Aoba’s gloved prosthetic hand before moving back to his face.

“I have a request, Shiki-san.” Aoba spoke up.

“What is it?”

“I’m looking for a woman who used to be Orihara Izaya’s secretary before he went to prison. Her name was Yagiri Namie.”

“Will finding her help you stay alive?” Shiki asked.

“Maybe. It’s one of the things I’m willing to try.”

“If we find her, we will give you her whereabouts for free this once. You’re good at your job. It’d be a waste if you were suddenly gone.”

Aoba bowed in gratitude.

The day of Mitora’s fifteenth birthday was way closer than he might have liked.


	3. Chapter 3

“Do you think Saika can be used to injure the Valkyrie, Kishitani-san?” Aoba asked. “I won’t count on her dying but incapacitate her to a degree? Do you have any idea of her regenerative abilities in such a case?”

“Well, some research was conducted…” Shinra admitted hesitantly. Aoba visited him in his apartment, still the same one he used to share with Celty, where he had been living alone ever since she’d left years ago after finding her head. “But not on her current form. Saika is probably a good bet. I’m not enthusiastic about the Valkyrie getting hurt in the first place, though.”

Valkyrie wasn’t Celty of course. For once, she didn’t talk. She reacted to commands or pleas but she didn’t say anything ever, even though she had a head and a mouth now. She also had a scary presence of a true monster, incomprehensibly trapped in this world, and her expansive wings were a sight to behold and allowed her to fly around, following Mitora from a distance wherever he went. But she was still the being closest to Celty that Shinra could ever hope to encounter and he stayed loyal to her, if only because he couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

“Mitora has plans for her that you wouldn’t be enthusiastic about either, Kishitani-san.” Aoba pointed out.

“I know.” Shinra sighed. “What was Izaya thinking giving control over something like her to a kid.” He wondered. “He probably assumed whatever was going to happen would be entertaining. But like I said: I don’t want the Valkyrie getting hurt. Even if it means people dying. Even if it means me dying.” He declared without a hint of doubt in his voice. “So it’s useless for you to ask me for help with something like this, Izumii-san.”

\---

Aoba took care for his expression to stay carefully neutral even while Shinra’s reluctance to do anything brought things back to square one for him.

He thought back to his visit at Mikado’s and Anri’s place a few days ago. He wasn’t exactly welcome there for obvious reasons but Mikado was still too polite most of the time to right out show him the door when he arrived with gifts for Mikado and Anri’s children. And the children were what bothered Aoba when he thought about using Anri, as a Saika-wielder, against the Valkyrie. 

It seemed he was getting soft as he got older, he figured, and didn’t even find the courage to breach the topic back then. But maybe that was going to be necessary after all. Aoba didn't look up to Mikado's reaction but he was running out of time and out of options. A few more days of Mitora staying with him and Kururi that Shizuo had asked for had stretched to a week already. Kururi was adamant about not letting Mitora go at all. At this point she and Mairu were actually planning Mitora’s fifteenth birthday party even while Aoba felt physically sick at the mere mention. He could still remember clearly enough how it had felt to have his throat cut and start bleeding out and dying looking up into a pair of red eyes.

Once home for dinner he lit up a cigarette at the table. That was something Kururi hated and she shot him an appropriate look.

He motioned toward Mitora with his cigarette.

“Either I’m smoking here or he’s going to eat in his room.” He said.

“Rude.” Kururi mouthed with a dissatisfied expression.

“I didn’t invite him to stay here and I don’t intend to teach him good manners.”

“Why are you like that, Uncle Aoba?” Mitora spoke up. “I’m just a kid.” He pointed out from over his plate, staring at Kururi with wide innocent eyes. “I don’t want to… wrestle for dominance with you or anything.”

Aoba noted how Mitora was keeping up a front of a hurt little boy very carefully in front of Kururi. He also dropped it effortlessly once the two of them were alone. It felt like some kind of mockery. And Aoba had no doubts Mitora had it in himself to order him being killed. And to laugh once it was done.

They both looked at Kururi. She said nothing.

“You’re not just a kid, Mitora-kun.” Aoba spoke up. “I was fifteen once, too, you know. And I remember what I was capable of back then well enough.”

“Sure. You ran a gang.” Mitora agreed. “And at sixteen you…”

“No.” Kururi protested at that.

“...but I’m not like that.” Mitora continued, his face a picture of innocence. “I’m not you or my father all over again, Uncle Aoba. Why can't you understand that you hurt me when you’re thinking about me like that?”

“Right?” Kururi asked.

“No, Kururi.” Aoba disagreed. “You haven’t seen your brother for fifteen years. And if this kid gets his way now, you’re not going to be seeing me ever again in a few days. You’re a lovely family, you know.” He said, let a scowl mar his features, got up from his place and headed out of the room.

He closed the front door with a thud.

“And I’m still falling for you over and over again anyway.” He muttered to himself once he was outside and broke the unfinished cigarette in half in the fingers of his only hand.

\---

"Izumii Aoba was here already with the same question.” Shinra said. “I’m not sure why he was interested though.”

Shizuo's hands clenched into fists.

“Mitora said he’d kill him.” He explained to Shinra. “Because Izaya asked him to when he went to see him.”

“Ah, that’s actually logical in a way.” Shinra observed with a sigh. “It is widely known it was Aoba’s confession that put Izaya in prison. I don’t know if you read such stuff though, Shizuo-kun? But it’s very ironic in a way. You spend your life trying hard not to kill anyone and yet your son apparently wants to kill someone the first chance he gets.”

“It’s Izaya's fault. And your father’s, Shinra."

“Who knows.” Shinra shrugged. “I understand you hold a grudge against my father. He understands that well enough himself. But human beings are also complicated creatures and no one thing shapes them to be who they are. Though all of it can be disentangled if one’s persistent enough. Monsters, on the other hand, and I’m not Izaya and I don’t mean you, hold a mystery that can’t be never understood. That is their unrivalled beauty. And now I will tell you the same thing I told Izumii-san. I will do nothing to hurt the Valkyrie.”

“I’m asking you to separate her from my son, not hurt her.”

“You don’t seem to understand, Shizuo-kun. I don’t think she and Mitora have a connection that is physical somehow and can be broken with a tool of some kind. I believe it’s more like love. As long as she has it within her, one can’t force her to let go of him without hurting her, severely at that. I believe she's still capable of having actual feelings, with the way she's acting sometimes, especially around Mitora. And you let her raise him, you know. Not just follow him around, but take care of him just like a human. And now, simply put, Mitora’s her child as much as yours. And if I wave a cursed blade at you, will you just let him go?”


	4. Chapter 4

Namie removed her dark glasses when Aoba sat down at the table with her. They were in the lobby of an upscale hotel and she looked the part in her designer clothes. A cup of espresso and a glass of water were on the table in front of her. Aoba noted how pretty she was despite her age and while as a thirty two year old man he was by no means intimidated by beautiful women anymore he wondered how flustered he would have been if he'd encountered her sixteen years ago. He couldn’t really understand how Izaya could have gone from sleeping with a woman like her to a kid like him back then. Then again, it hadn’t been the only illogical thing Izaya had done at the time.

“I presume you looked up who I am?” He asked and removed his gloves, baring his prosthetic hand. They had already made introductions while talking on the phone before she’d come to Tokyo.

She glanced down at his hands before looking back up to his face.

“Yes, I have an idea who you are, Izumii-san." She said. "But no particular interest in all that.”

“I'm married to Izaya’s sister. And your son has been living at my place for the past month.”

“No offense, but I came here to meet him, not you.” She interrupted.

“I’m happy you’re willing to do that, Yagiri-san.” Aoba smiled politely. “But he’s fifteen. And you haven’t contacted him so far. And it’s not like it would have been impossible for someone like you to find him if you put your mind to it."

“Maybe. But I never looked for him.” She replied coldly. “I was considered insane at the time I gave birth to him and all I knew was he was going up for adoption. I never looked into by whom.”

“If you did, you would have been in for a surprise. Heiwajima Shizuo raised him.”

Namie didn’t seem interested even in that.

“Why did you come here now if you never cared?” Aoba asked.

Namie smiled in a way that, while subtle, made him question her sanity at this very moment, too.

“Because he’s Izaya’s son.” She said. “His father caused the death of my little brother. My only remaining family. I hate that kid for that. I came here to tell him that. Would you have preferred for me to turn up with that message when he was younger?” She scowled as if she tasted something sour. “I regret not having had the abortion I’d had scheduled to get rid of him every single day. And especially now after I’ve seen the photo you’d sent me. He just looks like Izaya. There’s nothing of interest in him for me. I had once deluded myself he could have resembled my little brother and I couldn’t get that image out of my head, so I kept the pregnancy, but it was a mistake." She took a sip of her water. "If you won’t let me meet him now, you can repeat that to him.”

Aoba thought how her thinking was very strange but he was ready to play along.

“Well, he’s quite tall, Yagiri-san.” He pointed out. “Actually, there is something about him that may be coming from your side of the family, too. Though nothing you could see in a photo of his face.”

Namie did look a bit interested in that.

“I’d like you to see him and judge for yourself, Yagiri-san. Can we go see him now?”

 

\---

Namie didn’t like the feeling this man was giving off. She’d admitted to such atrocious thoughts to him and yet he had just accepted it without showing any indignation. That instantly reminded her of Izaya, the man she hated the most in the world, and she felt repulsed by Aoba’s smile. It probably wasn’t a good idea, but she still followed him to his car. After having traveled all the way here, she was all for taking a look at her son and being finally done with it all.

The car they walked to was a black Mercedes sedan with heavily tinted windows. She got into the back seat and stared into the window pointedly all the way through the city to Mitora’s middle school. Aoba drove in silence.

When they arrived, he parked the car close to the school gate.

“I’ll go talk to him first.” He announced before getting out of the car.

Looking at the students walking out through the gate, Namie realized how she hadn’t really had anything to do with kids for years now. And it might have just been because of his age and the school uniform on him, quite similar to the one Seiji used to wear years ago, but the boy whom Aoba had approached, already taller than him, really looked like her brother to her if he ever decided to dye his hair red, at least from the distance. And her heart skipped a beat at the sight.

\---

“What is it, Uncle Aoba?” Mitora asked upon spotting Aoba in front of his school after his classes had been over.

That was unusual. Aoba wouldn’t have just shown up to offer him a ride home.

“I found your mother.” Aoba said.

Mitora didn’t expect that and he stared at him with wide open eyes. He knew nothing at all about his mother other than what Izaya had told him. Shizuo had always refused to tell him anymore, everyone else too. He figured maybe they really didn’t know anything. But on the other hand, it was to be expected that Aoba of all people might have known something.

“Consider it my birthday present for you, Mitora.” Aoba smiled but there was nothing sincere about his smile.

Two more days were left until Mitora's birthday.

“I guess you can imagine why I’m giving it to you early.” Aoba continued with a wry smile.

“You’re trying to get on my good side, Uncle Aoba.” Mitora said. “I see… But you weren’t nice to me at all these past two weeks.”

“Not nice? Because I didn’t go along with your accusations against your adoptive father? Because I don’t enjoy you living at my home and manipulating my wife while threatening to kill me at the same time? True I’m not nice like that, Mitora. That’s it, more like I’m neither stupid nor gullible.”

“I guess.” Mitora said. “When I tried something with Uncle Izaya he also figured out a lot of it right away. I probably have to be more careful around the likes of you two.” He sighed. “But, Uncle Aoba, I really won’t kill you. I mean it. If only because I won’t do Uncle Izaya’s bidding just like that. If he wants to manipulate me, fine, but he has to make more of an effort, too.”

“You won’t make me underestimate you now by being humble.” Aoba said seriously.

“You really are incorrigible, Uncle Aoba.” Mitora smiled. “So, when can I see my mother?”

“Right now.” Aoba motioned toward his car.

All the self-assurance left Mitora, replaced by uncertainty. He glanced at the car but couldn't see anything inside through the tinted windows from where they were standing.

“How is she?” He asked, trying not to fidget anxiously.

“Attractive. Cold. Crazy.”

“So kind of like my father, huh?” Mitora asked, his brow scrunching up in thought.

“Well, maybe the two of them hooking up and having you wasn’t all that random after all.”

“That’s a poor consolation for neither of them ever wanting me, Uncle Aoba.” Mitora smiled again. “But I’ll take it.”

They headed toward the car. Namie got out when she saw them.

Mitora was a bit intimidated by her looks and her elegant attire. The vibe she was giving off was vastly different from that of his aunts, who were the adult women he interacted with the most. He stopped walking and stared at her and she approached him without hesitation and pulled him into a tight hug, making his eyes go wide in shock.

He went stiff in her embrace.

“You’re just like Seiji.” She observed.

He didn’t know who that was.

When she finally let him go, she still held him at arm’s length.

“What’s your name?” She asked, looking over him intently.

Mitora was weirded out quite a bit at first by her not even knowing that much.

“Heiwajima Mitora.” He answered. "Like Snake Tiger."

“I’m your mother." She said. "And I’m so sorry I ever let you be taken away from me.” She said and hugged him again.

Aoba was looking on and Mitora felt like asking him for help to just get rid of her. His curiosity was already satisfied and he didn’t feel like having anything more to the with this woman. She wasn't letting go of him though.

“The face is a problem.” She mumbled into his ear, probably more to herself than to him. “But it’s nothing I can’t correct anyway.” She added confidently and her eyes lit up. “I’ve been all alone for years. But not anymore.” She moved away from him and smiled and it seemed like she hadn’t been doing that enough for years indeed, if ever, and it looked all wrong. “I’m not going to ever let go of you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so I finally closed the plot from the first fic from 7 years ago ie. answered the question why Namie didn't have the abortion she'd gone to get.


	5. Chapter 5

She came for him the way only she could. Her wings carried her from Tokyo to Fukuoka, the islands under her moving in a blur. She landed on the glass skylight in the roof of the prison, her monstrous shadow falling on the floor of the cafeteria below.

The shadow caught the attention of a few inmates and they stared at it for a while before looking up and not understanding what they were seeing.

“It is Mitora’s fifteenth birthday today, right?” Iskusitelĭ asked in Izaya’s mind with a sly smile. “And it’s time for me to take over, don’t you think, Izaya?”

Iskusitelĭ, a being seriously lacking in the remorse and restraint department, had proven to be useful in prison, to a degree. It had been him crushing windpipes under boots, plunging knives in jugulars and raping that one guy in front of everyone to show them how they could go as far as necessary to maintain their dignity. But he’d also done things Izaya could have done without. Like biting off that guy’s ear and eating it on the spot or getting a whole lot of unsightly tattoos all over his torso, his obsession with leaving a mark on the physical world not lessening any with time.

Izaya’s eyes narrowed when he looked up and saw the winged creature on the roof. Mitora hadn’t listened to him. And now whatever predictable existence he had arranged for himself in prison was going to be taken away from him.

“Haven’t you grown old, Izaya?” Iskusitelĭ mocked him in his head. “Are you happy being stuck here now? If you can’t deal with it, let me take over. I will take care of everything.”

Izaya looked down at the table and rubbed his temples. A few inmates sitting near him noted the gesture, exchanged knowing glances and moved away. Several pairs of eyes started watching him warily from a distance. It was widely known at this point that it never ended well when he started falling apart.

“ _Bâton des exilés, lampe des inventeurs, confesseur des pendus et des conspirateurs…_ ” He started whispering.

“I like you like that.” Iskusitelĭ praised him. “Go on.”

“ _Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère._ ” Izaya forced out through clenching throat. Whatever Iskusitelĭ was going to do, he was going to make him deal with the consequences anyway but Izaya wanted respite too much to stop himself from asking him to take over now, faced with being dragged out of prison by a supernatural being. It was how he’d conjured all these personalities in the first place after all. Cowardice had given birth to them and cowardice was fueling their existence. “ _Père adoptif de ceux qu'en sa noire colère du paradis terrestre a chassés Dieu le Père…_ ” He continued whispering.

“There was a time when I wouldn’t have imagined you were ever going to right out ask me to take over.” Iskusitelĭ commented. “You’ve fallen so low, Izaya."

” _Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère._ ” Izaya finished in a barely there voice.

“Your prayer has been answered. See you back in Tokyo.” Iskusitelĭ whispered in Izaya’s ear, his icy cold hands gripping Izaya's shoulders before his consciousness flicked off.

The Valkyrie’s scythe broke through the skylight, the glass falling down in a shiny rain of shards. She hovered in the air above it with her wings outstretched to support. The scythe disappeared from her hand into thin air. She landed on the roof next to the skylight. Tendrils of shadow escaped her body and slid down, moved between the shocked inmates and grabbed Izaya.

He smiled up at her.

“It’s been a while, Valkyrie.” He called out to her. “Do you still remember the time we burned a church together?”

She winced realizing who exactly she was dealing with, her body and her shadows trembling in apparent disgust.

“Don’t worry, Valkyrie, I’m not all that’s left.” He said with a smile. “I haven’t talked to Mitora either. Yet.”

The shadow arms lifted him up through the skylight while everyone else in the room, including the guards, was just staring, uncomprehending.

Once the Valkyrie pulled him close to her on the roof, he grabbed her hips and kissed her on the lips. She stayed motionless and stiff throughout it like a dead body. That didn’t bother him at all.

Once he moved away she retrieved a piece of paper from her shadow suit and gave it to him.

He took it and read what was written on it. A message from Mitora. His smile widened.

“Take me to the train station.” He said. “I’ll manage from there.”

She nodded, her face expressionless.

“Fifteen years.” He muttered, looking back down inside the prison. “So much lost time." He sighed. "At least I'll finally get rid of those." He unzipped the prison overalls he was wearing halfway, revealing a chest covered in strange inscriptions inked into his skin. “It’s a shame you’re no longer mine, Valkyrie. Imagine what we could have achieved together.”

She grabbed him roughly with one arm, ran to the edge of the roof with him in her grasp and and leapt off the building, her wings straining to support their combined weights once she was in the air. Her body was still trembling.

“You’re a monster.” He said. “Why are you shaking like that? I’m certainly not worse than you.”

\---

The birthday party was to be held at Aoba and Kururi’s place. Everything was set up. Mairu had put up silly balloon decorations in the dining room. The table was ready. The birthday cake was waiting in the fridge.

The Valkyrie had left early in the morning. Watching her depart through the window in his bedroom, Aoba had an idea where she’d gone. 

It had been hours and she still wasn’t back. He retrieved the gun from the safe, checked if the silencer was mounted correctly, pushed it into the holster and put on his jacket over it. He took a look in the mirror, checking if the gun was hidden well enough.

Whatever was going to happen, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. If the Valkyrie herself was to attack him though, he knew the gun was going to be useless either way. But it was at least going to be found on his body, making a point. He ran his hand through his hair and headed out of the bedroom.

“Uncle Aoba, can you help me with this?” Mitora was standing right in front of the door.

The door of the guest bedroom he’d been occupying for weeks now was open. Mitora was wearing a suit and holding a thin red tie in his hand.

“Ask someone who has two hands.” Aoba said indifferently and walked away.

Mitora didn’t say anything. Aoba could feel his gaze following him, though.

He entered the kitchen. Kururi was there, mixing a salad, wearing an apron over an elegant dark blue dress.

She looked over her shoulder when Aoba approached her.

“Worry.” She muttered.

“About something happening to me?” He asked.

“Heiwajima-san.” She shook her head.

“Mitora invited him here himself.” Aoba said, anger making his voice tremble. Out of all things to worry about, she chose to worry about Mitora’s safety. “Apparently he wants Heiwajima here. You shouldn’t bother with worrying about that, Kururi. But, you do realize Mitora most likely sent the Valkyrie to get your brother? This will all...”

“Worry.” She nodded.

Mitora entered the room.

“Aunt Kururi, can you help me with my tie?” He asked from the doorway with a sweet smile.

“Minute.” She said.

“I’ll help you.” Mairu entered the kitchen, too. She took the tie from him. “You’re all so awfully tense.” She observed, looking at Aoba and Kururi. “Smile a little.” She said before starting to tie Mitora’s tie.

“Not that tight…” Mitora protested. “You’re strangling me, Aunt Mairu.”

“I'm just playing around.” She admitted with a smile. “Since your supernatural bodyguard left your side for the first time since I’ve known you, I’m using the opportunity.” She loosened the tie. “There. You’re really cute today.”

“I’m not cute.” Mitora scowled.

“You are.” She ruffled his hair.

He didn’t look pleased but didn’t stop her from doing that.

An hour later the guests started arriving. Namely Shizuo, Shinra and Namie. The lineup was what Mitora wanted. No friends his age were invited, if he even had any. Aoba opened the door for them and showed them their places at the table. 

Namie was sitting by Mitora’s side. She looked ecstatic in a disturbing way. Shizuo’s place was as far away from Mitora as physically possible. Kururi was still staring at him suspiciously. 

Shinra had been talking for the better part of an hour now, uninterrupted by anyone else. Aoba hadn’t been listening to him but he appreciated his effort at making this situation seem normal. Or taking advantage of the captive audience.

“We should start, right?” Mairu spoke up finally and stood up to catch everyone’s attention. 

“Let’s wait a little longer.” Mitora said.

There was one more empty place left at the table and the Valkyrie still wasn’t back.

“Is this place for the Valkyrie?” Mairu asked, everyone looking at her now.

“Valkyrie doesn’t eat, Aunt Mairu.” Mitora pointed out, as if that explained everything.

“Then who are we waiting for?” She asked, even though she must have had an idea.

“You’ll see.” Mitora said with a smile.

The Valkyrie landed on the balcony right then, the soft thud catching everyone’s attention. She walked over to the glass door and knocked. Mitora made some moves with his hand that nobody understood, meant for her.

She nodded.

It was Shizuo who got up to let her in. She hugged him when he opened the door for her. Aoba had seen her do that before but he doubted that it was a regular occurence. Shizuo hugged her back. It looked like a goodbye.

Aoba saw with the corner of his eye how Mitora smiled a cryptic smile at that exchange.

“That’s the Valkyrie, Yagiri-san.” He said to Namie. Indeed, she must have never seen her before in that form. “She’s been with me since I was born. She’s like my mother in a way.”

Namie didn’t look impressed with that introduction.

“She’s just a monster, Mitora.” She said coldly.

The Valkyrie stared at Namie with her unmoving gaze. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking, if she was even thinking anything.

“Maybe you should tell everyone who we are waiting for exactly, Mitora-kun.” Aoba spoke up.

“Maybe.” Mitora smiled. “Are there any official news that he escaped?” 

Aoba took out his phone and took a look. There was nothing official but he’d asked certain people to check on the situation for him. He looked up from the screen.

“Nothing official yet, but the police is looking for him.” He answered.

“Hopefully they won’t catch him.” Mitora’s smile widened. “Or the party will be postponed. Let’s wait a little longer.”

“Who are you two talking about exactly?” Mairu asked.

“My father.” Mitora said.

"He sent the Valkyrie to get Izaya out of prison." Aoba explained. "And she succeeded. Now he hopes Izaya will come here."

"This will not end well." Shinra observed, glancing at the Valkyrie.

"So Izaya is free?" Shizuo asked. "Whatever he may want to do, I'll take care of him." He declared right away.

Aoba refrained from pointing out how the Valkyrie could be ordered to take Izaya’s side if only Mitora wanted that. Then again, Shizuo must have known well enough. 

“Run?” Kururi asked softly.

Aoba looked at her.

“It's too late.” He said. “I won’t run out of my own home, Kururi. I won’t run anywhere without you. And this was going to happen sooner or later anyway. Izaya is your brother after all. And you stick by his kid. You already made your choice. And it wasn’t me. All that’s left is seeing what happens now.” He put a cigarette between his lips and lit it up. “I won’t go without a fight. But who knows what will happen.”

"I just want to find out who I am." Mitora spoke up. "And who you all are."

He seemed so much like Izaya in that moment, Aoba thought, his fingers trembling when he took hold of the cigarette. 

Shizuo’s hands clenched into fists on the table. 

Mitora looked on with a satisfied smile. 

A shiver ran down Aoba’s spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, Iskusitelĭ. 
> 
> http://fleursdumal.org/poem/191 - this is the poem Izaya's reciting. English translations are below the French text. He starts at 'Staff of those in exile'.


	6. Chapter 6

“Why did you let Him take over?” Nakura inquired, materialising next to Izaya.

They were on the Shinkansen, occupying a set of six seats turned to face each other. The rest of the seats in the carriage appeared to be empty and thick white fog was obscuring the view outside the train’s windows.

Iskusitelĭ smiled at them from the opposite seat, his fangs showing, something about them not quite right as if they were much too sharp. He was wearing the clothes he’d stolen from a man he’d knocked out at the train station in Fukuoka, a black suit with a black tie and looking as if he was heading to a funeral.

“Among the four of us he’s the only one who ever actually dealt with the Valkyrie.” Izaya said. “I figured we could use his experience.” He explained offhandedly.

The downside to the whole situation was that the others knew this was a lie.

“There’s no experience needed to be yanked out of prison through a hole in the roof.” Nakura pointed out. “You don’t control Him anymore, Izaya. That’s the real reason. You let Him do whatever he wants whenever he wants to do it. You're even praying to Him, which is beyond ridiculous. And you used to be so disgusted by the crazy one doing that years ago. And you do that even though you know how this can end after what happened the previous time. And especially now that we’ve got out of prison and have a chance to rebuild...”

“If he gets his way… Gruesome murder for occult reasons.” Kanra interrupted, appearing in the seat opposite them. “That’s a life sentence if we get caught.” She said. “But maybe that’s what Izaya-kun here wants. He apparently liked it in prison a lot.” She looked at Izaya accusingly. “For the record, I did not. He pushed me out to get raped so I guess it was no skin off his back but…” Her eyes were scarily empty these days. She was wearing jeans, sneakers and a giant hoodie, her seductive attire of old gone along with the spark in her eyes.

“I think soon you will all be able to actually thank someone for that prison time.” Iskusitelĭ said, his smile widening.

“What do you mean?” Nakura asked him.

“Can one ever actually get rid of a part of oneself?” Iskusitelĭ asked. “Or can it only ever be buried more or less deeply? Even Psyche-chan is probably still around if one digged deep enough.” He patted the seat next to him with a smile. “But it’s not him drawn out now by his love for that kid we randomly had and destroyed everything for.”

The smell of vanilla-scented cigarette smoke filled the air. Izaya felt sick with disgust.

“The crazy one was supposed not to exist anymore.” Kanra said. “By his own choice.”

“You’re trying to bring him back, you sick…” Nakura addressed Iskusitelĭ.

“No.” Iskusitelĭ interrupted him. “I don’t even like him. He stabbed me in the heart after all. He’s just very persistent when he puts his mind to something, as you’re all well aware.”

“I’m taking over.” Izaya declared, his eyes narrowing. “This nonsense ends here.”

He jolted when another person appeared in the seat next to his, covered in layers upon layers of clothing and fifteen years younger than all of them. It was as if he hadn’t realized how much time had passed.

“Later, Izaya. I’m more interested in what he may want to do.” Iskusitelĭ said and reached out his hand to snatch the cigarette from crazy Izaya’s hand and take a drag himself. He grimaced when the smoke filled his lungs. “You’re still the only one here who enjoys smoking.” He waved the cigarette around.

In a waft of smoke, Nakura, Kanra and Izaya were gone despite their displeased expressions.

“Mitora wants to become immortal.” Iskusitelĭ observed. “That’s a lofty goal, don’t you think? But how will he prove himself to the Valkyrie? That’s a good question, isn’t it? Making her do all the work, while convenient, surely won’ impress her.”

Iskusitelĭ’s icy cold hand touched the other Izaya’s knee and with a jerk they switched places. Izaya had the suit on now and Iskusitelĭ appeared in front of him in his original form, wearing his endless coat and smiling so widely his fangs were showing.

 

The cigarette was back in Izaya’s hand and he took a drag of the smoke.

“Go help your son with that.” Iskusitelĭ said. “Even though you stabbed me, I’m giving you this gift. You’re not off the hook, though. We’ll settle this later.”

Izaya felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as Iskusitelĭ’s presence turned oppressively ominous and the vanilla scented smoke in his mouth started reeking of sulphur before it dissipated into thin air along with Iskusitelĭ’s form.

This smoke hadn’t been real, Izaya realized, still sluggish after fifteen years of sleep as deep as death. The mist was gradually clearing outside the windows, too. The other passengers appeared in their seats, their chatter filled the silence. The cigarette he had been smoking wasn’t there anymore and his fingers twitched. It might not have been real but the yearning for one was real. As was the cold. Iskusitelĭ had stolen nowhere near enough clothes for Izaya’s needs and he wrapped his arms around himself and curled up in his seat. He realized the body felt weird, wrong somehow after so many years, he knew it was older but that didn’t seem to have changed much, but it still seemed stronger but slower and the marks and scars on it were much more numerous where he could see his skin. Dull pain was radiating from his elbow. It must have been something chronic, probably a result of some old injury. His memories were fragmented, split as they were between the other personalities, and it took some time to piece anything together and wade through the eccentricities of the point of view. The ones made while Iskusitelĭ had been in charge seemed decidedly off-putting. Kanra’s were likewise better left alone. Izaya sure read a lot of books. Nakura had just been mourning the loss of their business for fifteen years.

Izaya took a deep breath. He knew he needed medication of all kinds if he wanted to retain control over their body for long. But then again, maybe that wasn’t going to be necessary. He wanted to see his son. That was all. Not getting involved with him had been his plan all along after all. It wouldn’t have resulted in anything good. So just a quick look. Though the original Izaya had already tried something with Mitora and he was probably going to continue doing that if he wasn’t properly restrained. Not to mention the dreadful possibility of Iskusitelĭ getting involved. Going back to prison to prevent that for a time was easy enough but a longer sentence and no visits for years might have been something to strive for. There were ways to arrange for that, too. Later.

 

Izaya checked his pockets. He didn’t find anything noteworthy or actually belonging to him other than a piece of paper in the inside pocket of the jacket. It was a crude invitation to a birthday party. It seemed completely innocent at first glance. The address was unfamiliar to him but was in what seemed to be still an expensive part of the city. Not likely that Shizuo could ever afford to live there. Something wasn’t adding up. But then again, Mitora had been apparently eager to get away from Shizuo. Fair enough, at fifteen and with the command of the Valkyrie, he didn’t need him anymore. He was already well equipped to be a monster himself. Just like he was supposed to be.

“That’s your wishful thinking.” Original Izaya’s voice spoke to him though he didn’t appear again. “I met him and he’s human through and through. I even got interested.”

“Maybe.” Izaya answered, careful not to talk to himself out loud. “But he will lose that humanity soon enough. I may even be able to witness that happening today.”

“You should have stayed wherever you were hidden all these years.” Izaya sounded angry.

“You should have disappeared yourself when Psyche murdered you.”

“I’m the only one who’s real.”

“I don’t think so. It seems we’re all stuck with each other, actually. Whether we like humans, monsters, money, pleasure, cuddles and pretty things or pretending to be the Prince of Darkness, we can’t get rid of any part.”

“I’ll find a way. This nonsense has to stop. Especially now that you’re back.”

"Suit yourself. But I already tried. And look how that worked out."

Izaya glanced at the five empty seats around him and could almost see the shadows of the others there. It was something he was saddled with. They all were.

The train was approaching Tokyo. Good. Because he really needed to smoke. If only to quiet the voices in his head.


	7. Chapter 7

When the doorbell rang, Mitora perked up instantly.

“Valkyrie.” He called out to her to catch her attention and signed something to her.

“It’s my house. I’ll open the door.” Aoba declared and got up from his place.

“Sure.” Mitora agreed with a smile. “But she will follow you.” He motioned with his head toward the Valkyrie. “In case you'd like to murder my guest.”

“Doesn’t kill.” Kururi argued.

“Uncle Aoba?” Mitora asked. “He did put certain tank together fifteen years ago.” He pointed out. “And he told me maybe he should kill Izaya first.”

Shizuo got up as well.

“If it's Izaya, I’ll talk to him.” Aoba said to Shizuo before heading out of the room.

Both Shizuo and the Valkyrie still followed him, which wasn’t ideal, but he could do nothing about it anyway.

The doorbell rang again before he opened the door. It was really Izaya. His sight made Aoba’s insides clench painfully with hatred and longing at the same time. Izaya was looking different but not different enough. The phantom pain in Aoba's missing hand, which was there at all times but he’d long since learned to tune it out, became especially prominent. Everything hurt so badly. But Aoba pushed all that to the back of his mind.

Izaya was wearing a bizarre assortment of clothes and reeking of cigarette smoke as if he’d just smoken through a dozen cigarettes. Just like back then.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking Aoba over, more attentively than it seemed necessary.

“Mitora didn’t tell you?” Aoba realized. “I married Kururi.”

Apparently disregarding that information, Izaya reached out for him and before Aoba could do anything, as unexpected as it was, embraced him in a tight hug. Aoba waited to be stabbed next, most likely lethally, and braced for the pain. But it didn't come.

Shizuo growled behind his back, probably getting ready to intervene.

Izaya grabbed the back of Aoba’s head instead, tilted it back and kissed him. Aoba felt himself going lax in his embrace, the old instincts kicking in without fail. Even though he didn’t like it one bit. If only because he was married now, not a kid anymore. And he didn't appreciate being used.

“You’ve grown up, Aoba-kun.” Izaya said once he stopped kissing him.

"Of course I did." Aoba said, his eyes narrowing, his voice sounding raspy to his ears. He hoped Izaya would get the hint.

“Why did you do that, Uncle Izaya?” Mitora asked from behind Aoba’s back, sounding quite astonished.

Izaya smiled at him. His hand caressed the back of Aoba’s neck.

“He didn’t tell you?" He asked, just like Aoba himself had a moment ago. "He was sleeping with me sixteen years ago. Well, I guess it’s not something he’s proud of or many people know about. Or something one should tell somebody’s kid.”

Not something Izaya himself should be proud of either, Aoba thought, but that apparently didn't bother him one bit. He let Aoba go, pushed him to the side and stepped inside the apartment. He must have felt the gun on him when he'd been this close, Aoba realized. But he did nothing about it.

He walked up to Mitora, who was standing there with Shizuo and the Valkyrie by his sides, like a perfect little family. And he smiled at the sight.

“What are you doing, Mitora?” He asked. "With the gift I gave you?"

“Thank you for giving it to me." Mitora said with a smile. "And I thought you wanted me to kill Uncle Aoba. I was going to do that."

A shiver ran down Aoba's back.

“Well, you thought wrong.” Izaya said.

“You told me as much when we met in prison, Uncle Izaya.”

“Aoba-kun never did anything I didn’t want, though.” Izaya disregarded what Mitora had said.

Mitora seemed confused at that point.

There was really something not quite right about Izaya, just like back then, Aoba thought. But Mitora apparently wasn't used to that as if he hadn’t encountered him like that yet.

“Thank you for raising my son, Shizu-chan.” Izaya addressed Shizuo. “And, do you by any chance know what happened to my dog?” He asked.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” Shizuo said.

“Oh, I know that." Izaya agreed. "I’ll go to a police station in a moment.” He offered with a serene smile. “Just tell me what happened to my dog.”

“Kadota had it." Shizuo answered. "For years. But then it died. Maybe five years ago?”

“Thank you. Now, that wasn't so hard, right? We wrote messages to each other lately but I never asked about that. But you should be used to talking to me at this point. I thought we could have this semblance of civility in person, too. And thank Kadota for me, will you?”

“You want to go back to prison, Uncle Izaya?” Mitora asked.

“Yes. What else would you expect me to do?” Izaya sounded as if that was obvious.

“I can command the Valkyrie.” Mitora pointed out.

“Of course, I gave her to you.”

“I thought you wanted to use her.”

“Mitora, I had her. The same way you have her now. I could have asked her directly to do anything I wanted years ago. But of all the possibilities, I chose to give her to you. Not to tell you what you should do with her, obviously.”

“You don’t make sense.” Mitora blurted out.

“I’m not bothered by that.” Izaya stopped smiling. “You thought I would sweep in and be a better parent to you than the ones you already have, Mitora? More like what you’d like? Forget about that. I stand by my choice. Shizu-chan is the best father you will ever have. And the only one. And if you want to kill Aoba, go on and do that. But not because I told you to.”

Mitora laughed all of a sudden.

“This is such a waste of my time.” He said. "Both you and my mother."

Namie appeared in the doorway behind him as if summoned by that mention and smiled a crazy smile when she laid her eyes on Izaya.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Aoba realized what was going to happen. And indeed, a second later he saw the gun in her hand. She moved as if in slow motion and fired in Izaya’s general direction.

She missed. The bullet left an ugly hole in the wallpaper on the wall.

Mitora turned to look at her over his shoulder.

“Oh, did you want to kill my father, mom?” He asked her.

Namie got ready to fire again instead of answering and Aoba retrieved his own gun without thinking.

“I’ll gladly help you.” Mitora declared with a smile.

Aoba aimed for Namie’s leg and fired before the Valkyrie moved to follow Mitora's command. She only made a step in Izaya’s direction anyway before Shizuo grabbed her wing. She pulled so hard to get away from him it tore in his hand but Shizuo reached for her arm, grabbed it as well and she couldn't get free, the inhuman strength holding her in place.

Namie slid down to the floor with a gasp. A quickly forming puddle of blood around her leg wasn’t a good sign, Aoba noted, but he still pointed the gun at her again. If this situation resulted in anyone dying, he thought, this was going to break Kururi's heart. Especially if it was her family member, even her brother. Aoba didn't care himself but he sure as hell didn't want her to suffer.

Mairu appeared in the doorway and kicked the gun out of Namie's hand before kneeling down by her side and trying to stop the bleeding.

“Why are you doing that, Uncle Shizuo?” Mitora questioned with a scowl, looking at Shizuo who was still holding the Valkyrie in place. “Don’t you hate my father?”

Shizuo grabbed for the nape of the Valkyrie’s neck, grabbed it despite her struggling and dragged her into the room and away from Izaya, who was standing motionless with an undecipherable expression on his face.

Sounds of breaking glass and Shinra's screaming resounded from the living room. Aoba hurried there, passing by Mairu and Namie on the way.

Kururi was fine. Shinra just pointed to one of the floor to ceiling windows. The glass was broken. Aoba approached the window with the gun still in his hand.

The Valkyrie had possibly used her wings to stop their fall because both she and Shizuo appeared to be unscathed down on the ground, ten stories below, and they were still holding onto one another, the Valkyrie wrestling to get away but failing.

Aoba put the gun down on the floor, took out his phone with his only hand, and sent a message he’d prepared before.

Mitora entered the room, looked around and came closer. Aoba grabbed the gun again before he stopped by his side.

“You have nothing to worry about anymore, Uncle Aoba.” He said. “Things worked out differently from what I expected. Maybe for the better." He smiled. "Thanks to you, too. Tell me, why did you bring my mother to me? You thought it would be better if I became preoccupied with her instead of my father? Well, that worked out for you. I won’t try to kill you anymore. But it turns out, I will kill my father instead.”

“Stop her.” Kururi spoke up by Mitora’s side, pointing to the Valkyrie.

Mitora looked at her.

Shizuo’s fight with the Valkyrie was continuing down below. They seemed evenly matched. Except she was indestructible for real and Shizuo wasn't. There was only so much time left to do anything and Aoba knew that well enough.

“If Uncle Shizuo just lets her kill Izaya, nothing will happen to him.” Mitora said. "So why is he doing that?"

“He doesn’t want you to kill anyone.” Kururi said.

Aoba had never heard her say so many words at once in all the time he’d been married to her.

“Well then, Uncle Aoba has the gun.” Mitora said with a smile. “Uncle Izaya’s right there.” He pointed toward the doorway where Izaya was standing now and lighting up a cigarette of all things. “And I’m right here. It seems the Valkyrie can’t protect me now. And won’t she be free if I die? Either way, it's your choice. Me or my father, either one would do.”

Shinra took a swipe at Mitora’s head with a bottle of champagne from behind him but Kururi caught his wrist before the bottle could collide and pushed him away.

“See, Uncle Shinra was willing to take the chance to see what would happen.” Mitora's voice was full of childish delight when Kururi kicked Shinra’s legs from under him, making him tumble down to the floor.

Aoba pointed the gun at Shinra then. That stopped him from trying to get up.

"We have to save the Valkyrie." He pleaded.

“But she won't be free if Mitora dies.” Izaya spoke up. “She’d come back to me. And if you hurt my son, I will use her to kill you all.”

A moment of silence followed, the threat sinking in.

Izaya was smoking as if nothing special was going on.

“So, Uncle Aoba?" Mitora spoke up, seemingly unperturbed by Izaya's declaration. "Killing Uncle Izaya is the best course of action then, right?” He asked. “And don’t you want to kill him for your own reasons anyway? For what he did to you? Your hand, you nearly dying, the other _things_. You were barely older than me when that happened to you. I understand how it must have felt.”

“You don’t understand anything, Mitora." Aoba interrupted him, his gun still trained on Shinra. "So don’t act like you do.”

There were sounds of a commotion in the hall and Kururi rushed in that direction instantly.

Izaya looked over his shoulder, while continuing to smoke, and turned back once he saw what had happened.

“It’s fine. Mairu’s got this.” He said. "Namie, of all people. Right here." He observed. "You’ve gathered quite an ensemble."

Aoba’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He made no move to take it out, the gun still in his hand.

“Mitora, it might have been better for you to have had more time before you went against someone like Aoba.” Izaya said. “Telling you to kill him was a way for a part of me that hates you to mess up my plans for you." He explained in a way that explained nothing. "Please prove him wrong." He smiled. "Aoba will be an excellent stepping stone for you."

"So you do want me to kill him." Mitora smiled back.

"I want you not to get outsmarted by him right now." Izaya said.

"What do you mean?" Mitora asked.

Down below, Anri approached the Valkyrie from behind with Saika in her hand.


	8. Chapter 8

“It’s too late.” Aoba said and went out onto the balcony.

Izaya heard Iskusitelĭ’s laughter very clearly for something that was only in his mind.

Shinra got to his feet and hurried to the balcony after Aoba. Mitora followed him, his brow furrowed.

Izaya walked up to Kururi. Whatever the outcome was going to be, her decisions had led to this, he thought, maybe more so than anything else.

“Aoba… seriously?” He asked her.

She looked up at him but said nothing. He doubted she could have explained anything anyway in just one or two words. Maybe if he got a hold of her when and where she could write it all down for him, if she was even willing to do that. But he wasn’t all that interested anyway.

“I once used him to do something that led to what I needed to happen.” He said. “But now he will ruin everything for real.”

“Strange.” Kururi whispered, her nostrils flaring at the smell of cigarette smoke coming from him.

She must have meant how he looked, he thought. It was indeed the first time she’d ever met him when he was like this. But on the other hand, expecting anyone to stay the same after fifteen years in prison would have been a bit much in the first place. He smiled at her before heading to the balcony, too.

He looked down from there. Downstairs, Anri was holding Saika in one hand and the Valkyrie’s head by her hair in the other. It had been detached from a body that was still moving, obviously not dead, not that anyone had expected anything different, but had transformed into a quivering mass of shadows.

Mitora was trembling in rage by Izaya’s side.

“It’s over.” Aoba said and turned around to head back inside the apartment, with the gun still in his hand.

Izaya considered his options briefly before following Aoba to the hall, where Mairu was still by unconscious Namie’s side.

“Will Kishitani ever take care of this?” Mairu asked, motioning to Namie’s bleeding leg with her head.

“He’s preoccupied with something else.” Izaya said. “The same thing as always, actually.”

“Go get him.” Aoba addressed Mairu. “It’s not like Yagiri will run.”

Mairu nodded.

Aoba hid the gun briefly to open the door, went out of the apartment and headed to the elevator. Izaya followed him inside it. The gun was pointed at him again as soon as the door closed behind the two of them.

“I will shoot you if you try anything.” Aoba said.

He was very calm. Impressively so, Izaya observed.

“Of course.” Izaya smiled, his gaze travelling to Aoba’s missing hand before going back up to his face.

“What will happen to your Valkyrie now?” Aoba asked, holding the gun steady and pointed at Izaya’s chest.

“How am I supposed to know.” Izaya just shrugged. “I wanted my son to be much more than a mere human being. But that’s most likely already a lost cause. You arranged that to happen, didn’t you?”

“I did. But not out of spite. I just wouldn’t die for that cause of yours, if I could help it.”

“You could have stayed away altogether.” Izaya observed. “You’d had your run-in with me already. Why decide after that to stick around and marry my sister and hang out with my son?”

“You can’t blame me for not being particularly sane, Izaya-san. Look at yourself.”

The elevator reached the ground floor. Aoba hid the gun before getting out and Izaya spotted the opportunity, felt the pure bloodlust that wasn’t his own coursing through his veins, filling his head with images of murder and depravity, but he both wasn’t going to do Iskusitelĭ’s bidding like that and didn’t feel like hurting Aoba to avenge his lost cause. That just seemed unnecessary. And Mitora would have needed to live with the consequences of that act. His family members killing each other when it no longer even mattered wasn't what he needed.

Once they went out of the building, it was instantly apparent to Izaya that the two monsters in front of it had really slaughtered his Valkyrie.

Her body was now visible again, though still oozing shadows, but not only her head but also her wings were gone.

She straightened up and extended her gloved hand towards Anri, who was standing in front of her with Saika in one hand and still holding the Valkyrie’s head with the other.

She gave it back prompted by the gesture. The Dullahan took it, fitted it under her arm, her body visibly relaxing once all the pieces were in place. Her horse appeared out of nowhere, far in the distance in the sky, and approached without making a sound, even when its hooves hit the ground. She mounted it once it was by her side, motioned for it to move and left, disappearing into the sky.

Something changed once she was no longer there, Izaya realized. Something fundamental. The reality itself morphed and went back to usual. The Valkyrie had probably overstayed her welcome in this world for years because of what he’d done, he thought. She, an angel of war, had helped to rise his son, of all things. Her going away to wherever she headed was actually setting things right.

Saika slid back into Anri’s body and her eyes stopped glowing red, the supernaturality of the situation dissipating entirely.

“She’s gone.” Shizuo said. He sounded somewhat wistful, before he turned to face Izaya. “Your turn, Izaya.”

“I’ll go without you forcing me to.” Izaya said, surrendering instantly. “Give me the gun.” He addressed Aoba and extended his hand. “I’ll take the blame for shooting Namie. Call the police. And Shinra. Warn him not to do too good a job on her leg so they wouldn’t figure out he’s a doctor. Tell the police I did it when they ask you.”

Aoba opened the gun’s chamber and spilled the bullets onto the ground, having no way to catch them, before wiping the gun off and giving it to him.

Izaya stuck it into his pocket.

Mikado walked up to them, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. His eyes behind the glasses he was now wearing were radiating coldness.

“It might be a better idea to use that gun to shoot yourself in the head, Izaya-san.” He said.

“I doubt I could do that, Mikado.” Izaya turned to face him and held his gaze.

He'd told the truth. He would have killed himself a long time ago if that had been possible, taken himself out of his son's life entirely, possibly preventing this disaster. But not all parts of him longed to die anytime soon and they wouldn’t have let him do something like that.

“Either way, I hope this is the last time you ever try anything.” Mikado said.

Maybe that could be true and taking the blame for shooting Namie was going to give him a life sentence, Izaya thought, hopefully. But also the way Mikado had said those words had made them a promise of a fate much crueler than prison. Mikado had a bigger stake in the game now than ever before. He had children. Izaya knew about them since that was the one thing his other self had actually felt like researching, unlike what had happened to his own sisters.

Unless he’d known about them, too, Izaya realized. And about Aoba’s current closeness to his family. Maybe he’d just chosen to hide that knowledge from the other selves to use it against one of them one day. Either way, Izaya thought, he had won.

He’d been defeated by the other one the same way he’d once won with him. By enlisting the help of the kids. Except they could no longer be called ‘kids’.

“Shizu-chan.” Izaya said, turning away from Mikado, whose sight was just a reminder of his defeat, and toward Shizuo. “Will you take Mitora back?”

“Mitora doesn’t want to go back.” Shizuo answered.

The accusations, Izaya thought. His son's desperate meddling just to get away from his adoptive father. 

Shizuo was looking no worse for the wear after the fight with the Valkyrie, Izaya observed. And that was as magnificent as ever in his eyes. He would have liked it very much if at least Shizuo stayed a part of his son’s life, now that the Valkyrie was gone.

“Aren’t you his father?” He asked.

“Kururi will take care of Mitora.” Aoba interrupted him. “That’s what she and Mitora chose to do. Just let that happen. Quit twisting that kid’s life into some unusual tale suiting your interests.”

“I wouldn’t expect you of all people to say that, Aoba-kun.”

“Fifteen years is actually a long time to learn something, Izaya-san.”

Izaya didn’t argue with that. But he hadn’t had these years himself. He didn’t really know how the actual passage of that much time must have felt.

Meanwhile his other self had used that time to get good enough to outsmart him. And he’d let himself be driven out again, expecting to witness Mitora’s triumph, only to end up being a witness to his utter defeat.

\---

The police had come in several cars. Aoba and Mikado were observing from a distance how the policemen seized Izaya and put him into one.

Shizuo had stayed around but kept his distance just like them. He must have been making sure that Izaya was really taken away, Aoba thought, and once that had happened, he left.

Aoba offered Mikado a cigarette. Mikado didn’t take it, so he hid the packet and lit one up himself.

“You shouldn’t smoke, Aoba-kun.” Mikado said.

That was so very much like him, Aoba thought.

“No skin off your back, right?” He asked with a smile.

“Did you honestly think the Valkyrie could have threatened the whole city?” Mikado asked.

He had already sent Anri home, so she wouldn’t have gotten caught up in anything, Aoba figured, but his curiosity must have been keeping him around.

“Or was it just for your own benefit?” Mikado continued.

Aoba had convinced Anri to intervene by mentioning the threat to her family and the world as they knew it indeed, if Mitora got to command the Valkyrie long-term, but it had really not been all about his own survival.

“A being like her, controlled by a crazy fifteen year old.” He said. “What could have possibly gone wrong?”

Both him and Mikado knew well enough what they might have wanted to do with that kind of power themselves years ago. Aoba had needed Anri’s help to save his own life but he hadn’t been lying about the danger to everyone else.

“In that case, we could have taken care of the Valkyrie like that years ago.” Mikado pointed out.

“Without Heiwajima on our side? Not likely.” Aoba shook his head. “He would have actually protected her before today.”

“You volunteered to raise Izaya’s son.” Mikado observed, changing the topic.

“His son is Kururi’s nephew.”

And now that Mitora had no means to threaten Aoba anymore, there was no use fighting Kururi about her wanting to take care of him. She was going to want to pick up the pieces. And, since she was apparently still convinced Shizuo had done something to Mitora, also shelter him. Aoba was aware that she was dead serious about that and it was not something he would have left her over. Mitora was still so young, too. Maybe he could still grow up to be somewhat decent. If that had worked out for Aoba himself, that couldn't be out of the question.

He threw away the cigarette and stomped it out on the ground.

“I’m having guests over.” He said to Mikado, looking at the policemen heading into the building now. “See you sometime, senpai.”

Mikado nodded.

Aoba walked away.

\---

Mitora was sitting on the couch in the living room, his suit crumpled, and scowling like the moody brat he was.

The broken glass in the balcony door had been replaced with a piece of cardboard. The birthday party decorations were still there. As were the bloodstains in the hall where Namie’s blood had seeped into the beige carpet.

All the guests besides Mairu had left, though. Or had been taken away.

“You honestly think you two are such an improvement over the monster and the Valkyrie?” Mitora asked, looking up at Aoba and Kururi.

They had just offered to let him stay with them. And considering what he’d done, that was one generous offer, Aoba thought.

“A woman who doesn’t speak and a psychopath like you?” Mitora addressed Aoba. “You fucked my father. Who knows why you want to keep me here all of a sudden...”

“You’re not your father, Mitora.” Aoba interrupted. “And if we’re so bad, what are your other choices? It’s either us or your adoptive father. Your actual mother, whom you weren’t impressed with anyway, is insane. So is Izaya. He also chose to go back to prison to stay away from you. So you’d have a chance.”

“He did that because I no longer had anything to offer to him." Mitora argued. "Now that the Valkyrie’s gone.”

“The whole thing, was it about you trying to prove yourself to him?”

“Not just to him, Uncle Aoba. Everyone around me has always been someone special. Monsters, supernatural creatures, terrorists. How could the spotlight ever be on me? Until the day it was. Except you ruined everything right away. And honestly, I should have known that could have happened. But like my father said, you could have been a great stepping stone.”

“Being a god for one day is still more than most people ever get. Living to tell about it, too.”

Mitora smiled.

“I will never stop trying to be one again though, Uncle Aoba.” He declared.

And Aoba hated that more than anything. Another Orihara offering him another challenge. It was as repulsive as Izaya mocking him to defeat him years ago. But at the same time, he still couldn’t get enough of that.

“I’ll be there to show you just how human you are then, Mitora.” He said. “Every single time.”

\---

“We’re even.” Izaya said to himself once he was pushed into his cell at the new prison he’d been taken to.

He wasn’t happy about being incancerated again at all. Though on the other hand, it wasn’t the end of the world. Having spoiled the crazy one’s plans for once was actually sweetening the deal a lot. But that self was nowhere to be found to hold the victory over its head.

“He’s gone.” Iskusitelĭ said instead, materializing in the shadows close to the walls.

Just like Izaya himself, he was wearing prison overalls but his were unzipped to reveal some of the tattoos around his collarbones.

“Of course.” Izaya should have expected as much. “You gave control to him.” He reminded. “And look where that took us.”

“It wouldn’t be like that if only you two weren't getting mired in fighting each other of all things.” Iskusitelĭ said. “Though, trust me, I do understand the appeal of having a worthy opponent. Being self reliant in that regard is quite something actually.” He laughed, his fangs showing. His laughter was a vile sound. “We will hear about Mitora-kun again.” He added seriously.

“Aoba will contain him for now.”

“Until the day he won’t.” Iskusitelĭ smiled. “The crazy one put the idea into his head. The one about the stepping stone.”

“Fair enough.” Izaya shrugged. “Mitora’s only human now that the Valkyrie's gone. If he wins, I can appreciate that."

“If only the poor kid could hear that.” Iskusitelĭ laughed again.

Then his body merged back with the shadows, his glowing red eyes the last to disappear, and the laughter was all that was left of him.

That was going to last a while, Izaya thought. The grating sound continued ringing in his ears, even if it wasn’t really there.

\---

END


End file.
